


The Flight Plan

by PubLicEneMyNumBah1



Category: Dota - Fandom, Dota 2, Warcraft
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Aviation, Dota - Freeform, Euphemisms, Mild Language, Novella, Scourge, sentinel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PubLicEneMyNumBah1/pseuds/PubLicEneMyNumBah1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a FusionFic of DotA, a WC3 map, and Dota 2, a sort-of-sequel to DotA but is a different game by Valve. This will mostly focus on the adventures of Aurel Vlaicu and Boush the Tinker. Special thanks to members of the fanfic section of PlayDotA.com for their feedbacks.</p><p>Original thread can be found here: http://www.playdota.com/forums/showthread.php?t=458671</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

  
 

"A-ha! All systems good to go!" Boush exclaimed while he poised his right mechanical arm into a salute. His voice was louder and a pitch higher than normal. There’s no greater pleasure for the Tinker than to work on intricate pieces of machinery. He considers his latest project, upgrading Aurel’s gyrocopter, as a very special one. His efforts of reverse engineering Dwarven technology prior to the Great War have finally paid off and he has added it to his own Goblin mechanical expertise. The war itself provided an even better opportunity. Bitter resentments between the two races had almost boiled down when they were forced to ally themselves with each other, resulting to a constant exchange of knowledge that became of great use to the Sentinel. Dwarven and Goblin technology might have been rivals but when used together, great things can be accomplished.  
  
Aurel walked around the flying machine, his eyes wide while he examined the aircraft's new fortifications. He eventually lifted up his aviator glasses above his forehead, scratched his eyes, and after confirming that he’s seeing it for real, resumed his admiration. He carefully touched the new exterior, gleaming gilt with mithril underneath. _Too shiny_ , he said to himself but he liked it nevertheless. The single main rotor was also replaced by two smaller ones on each side. The skids seem to remain untouched except for added roundel designs that show his allegiance to the Sentinel, a crescent moon curving downwards with an owl, wings astride, on top of it. He wouldn’t mind to soar in the skies with style but he was curious if it is truly airworthy.  
  
“She’s a beauty, alright. Ya sure she ain’t a whiskey delta?”  
  
“She’s as pretty as she does gonna be badass, that’s all I can say.” Boush replied confidently as he gave two thumbs, and two mechanical fingers, up. “If she fails, though I’m certain she won’t, press the big red button to eject.”  
  
Goblins were known for their almost suicidal use of technology and too little consideration for safety. Aurel knows Boush well enough though and if there’s anyone he can trust his machines with, it would be him.  
  
“Armaments?”  
  
“Well you have them machine guns, flak cannons, and missiles. I’m wonderin’ if I’m gonna add nuke to it later, too.”  
  
 Aurel dismissed the last sentence as a joke. _Goblin humor_ , he thought. “Better try ‘er out. How fast can she go, by the way?”  
  
“305 feet per second maximum. I can push it beyond that in subsequent upgrades.” Boush replied as Aurel climbed up into the cockpit, opening the hatch to enter it. He found the new upholstery comfortable. The switchboard was also overhauled and now some have confusing array of buttons and even with a keyboard and monitor to boot. The flight stick seems to be untouched and he just likes it that way. But before he can even do more, a Druid of the Talon in his storm-crow form entered the hangar.  
  
“Salutations!” The druid greeted as he morphed into an Elven appearance after landing near Boush. “I have been sent…”  
  
“Damn the civilities. What’s your *coughs* business here?” Boush interrupted as he brushes off feathers that scattered from the druid’s transformation. "I'm allergic to these, dammit!"  
  
“Sirs, the prophet wants to form a council that would include you.”  
  
“Why, may I query?” Boush said with annoyance in his voice.  
  
“I have not been told. I’m just a messenger... sir.”  
  
"That's it, you're the messenger. Isn't there a part of the message that has something about that? Or is it that your brain's capacity can't go beyond a bird's no matter what form you are in?" The goblin replied mockingly.  
  
"Ah, no."  
  
 Aurel exited from the cockpit and went down to interrupt before Boush can further demean the druid. “ _Oie?_ How we may be of service, my fine-feathered friend?”  
  
“The prophet, he wants to talk to both of you. He wishes to meet you in Senatinia.”  
  
“Looks like we’re in luck, Boush. We can take a ride on my gyro on our way there. This would be an excellent test drive!” Aurel said enthusiastically as he gave his goblin pal a strong pat on the back that made the latter almost fall to his knees.  
  
“That would be most desirable. He wishes for you to go immediately…”  
  
“Say no more. We’re going.” Aurel interrupted and climbed aboard the copter, he pulled his glasses down his eyes and activated the controls. He gestured to the Tinker to take the seat behind him and with a grasp through his mechanical arms, he pulled his own weight in position. The mechanical arms retracted to his backpack to provide a greater space. “Oh, sorry. We don’t have enough seats for all of us.” Aurel said to the druid.  
  
“Nothing to worry about. I can fly.” The druid morphed once more into a crow and flew out of the hangar. Aurel started the engine and the gyrocopter soon lifted off the ground.  
  
As they were following behind the crow, Aurel asked Boush, “How much do you want for this?”  
  
“Scuse me?”  
  
“How much should I pay you?”  
  
“None. I did it for free.”  
  
“That’s so generous of you, especially for a goblin.”  
  
“Whoa, aren't we pigeonholed?”  
  
“Just kidding. Say, we’ll make a great team, don’t we? I, Sentinel’s ace pilot, will be the captain and you, the elite mechanic, shall be the first officer. How awesome could that be?”  
  
“I prefer to work alone and with no one givin' a damn 'bout my turf. No one ain't tellin' me what to do and I'll do it only if I like to. Besides, how many pilots are there in the Sentinel, anyways?”  
  
The dwarf chuckled at the remark. “Is that so?” Aurel said with a hint of disappointment. “Anyway, thanks for the upgrade.”  
  
“Anytime and you’re welcome. ‘Tis a pleasure.”  
  
“Have you buckled up already?” Aurel asked with a mischievous smile.  
  
“No, not yet. Now that you’ve mentioned it…”  
  
“Well then, please fasten your seat belt... ‘cause we’ll be approaching the sound barrier!”  
  
With a pull on the flight stick, they accelerated and overtook the druid and left a trail of smoke in the airspace.


	2. ???

**Part 1**

“Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaack.”

Boush immediately jumped out of the cockpit as soon as they landed at the grassland just outside the Sentinel’s headquarters, kneeling and throwing up on a brush of grass. “I’ll… *barf* clip you for this, you dwarf.”

Aurel found it hilarious. He just wanted Boush to skip a beat, expecting that the goblin will be able to fasten himself immediately but that expectation went bust. “Sorry… *laughs* but at least ye didn’t spill in the cockpit.”

“I don’t give a fig about your monkey-fighting cockpit.” Bits of meat, corn, and bread expelled from his nose and mouth along with pinkish gastric juice. After barfing an entire lunch’s worth, Boush leaned on a tree to recuperate.

“ _Aye, aye._ ‘Am sorry, man. I know yer angry with me and all but can you stop being such a little lass now?”

“Up yours.” Boush said as he made a gesture with one of his mechanical hands, which fails partly as each one only has two fingers.

“ _A’right,_ can we please just pretend this didn't happen and look for the prophet?”

“No way, pal. You made me vomit seven gold coins worth of my recent meal.”

Aurel squinted and randomly glanced aside.

“Not that I care how much it was worth.”

“Let’s just look for Furion and get this over with, aye?”

Boush shrugged and grudgingly followed behind Aurel as the latter walks toward the headquarters. As they passed by several female Night Elven sentries guarding the path, Aurel placed his goggles over his eyes and wolf whistled, “Hey, sexy ladies.”

“Creep.” One of the Elven women muttered under her breath after the duo entered a crevice in one of the many great roots of the World Tree, the Sentinel's seat of power. They searched for and entered a lift, a recent innovation by the combined efforts of the technologically advanced races. On their way to the main chamber, they met the Windrunner.  
  
“Lyralei, how long has it been? Am I glad to see ye!” Aurel greeted as he gave a gentlemanly bow. Lyralei stopped for a moment and tried to search for the person who called her but she didn’t immediately saw who.  
  
“Down here, miss.” Boush called out and waved one of his mechanical arms in front of her.  
  
“Oh,” The redhead stooped and greeted back, “There you are. About four moon cycles, I presume. And I’m glad to see you guys again, too. How’s the work on the flying machine going? The one that shoots large featherless arrows.”  
  
“It’s done. Thanks to the mechanic extraordinaire here for that.” Aurel grabbed Boush by the shoulder as he gave a thumb up. Boush broke off from the hold immediately. “Anyway, what are you here for?”  
  
“They’re called missiles.” Boush corrected as he fixes his hat’s position.  
  
The three started walking together as they talk. “Usual business, official mission orders; what else is there other than this to our lives now? Ever since this war started, we’ve been all up to fighting and spying. I wish I could go back to that time when I could still stop and smell the flowers. When I can spend the noon frolicking with hares and squirrels. When a few dozen suitors would chase me across the meadows and I would aim my arrows a few inches under their trousers’ fly to give them the scare of their lives…” Lyralei replied. “But frankly, my dwarves, I don’t give a hoot.”  
  
“Ha! I guess you're quite the breezy woman, aren’t ya?” Aurel replied.  
  
“Say what?”  
  
“I meant the cheerful meaning of the word.” Aurel clarified.  
  
“Aye, right! And I’m a goblin not a dwarf.” Boush objected.  
  
“And I’ll have you know that my one my grandmas was a gnome.” Aurel added.  
  
“You guys look no different to me. You’re all… short.”  
  
“For a sharpshooter, you’re fragging blind.” Boush said as he slid his palm down his nose.  
  
They continued their conversation and shifted from subject to subject as they went through several twists and turns within the carved pathways of the tree until they came upon a big wooden door. Lyralei moderately thumped its metal knocker thrice as she’s the only one who can reach it among them three.  
  
“Furion, sir? Are ye there?” Aurel followed up.  
  
“No, he ain’t here, mon! But him old man told me to watch out for yah! Be there in a moment!” It was Rhasta behind the door and he slowly rose up from the couch and came to open up for them. Much clanking was made. Several bolts unbolting and locks unlocking until the lazy-eyed troll swung the door.  
  
“Hoots, mon!” Aurel greeted as Rhasta gave each of them a low-five (a high-five from the two little guys' perspective) although Boush was reluctant.  
  
“Chill day to yah, too, mon! How my favorite goblins be?”  
  
“I’m a dwarf but that’s okay.” Aurel smilingly righted. “Well, nothin’ like a braw, bricht, sunlicht day to keep me in giddies.”  
  
“The geezer ain’t home yet so yah better sit down first. Me and my main man Cow Chieftain be puffing peacepipe. You like?”  
  
“Haow!” Cairne bellowed his welcome from across the large room as he’s lying down on a hammock.  
  
“Nope, but I’d like some liquor if you have some.”  
  
“It’s in the cooler right there.” Rhasta pointed to a large metallic box and Aurel ran towards it. The troll looked at Lyralei and said, "'Bout yah, miss?"  
  
“N-No thanks, I have... enough peace right here.” The female archer awkwardly replied.  
  
“Calling us up here while being absent himself. What is the prophet up to anyway?” Boush asked as he sat down.  
  
“Saving Mother Nature, of course!” Cairne interjected. “Give a hoot, don’t pollute!”  
  
 _Damn junkies._ Boush thought with irritation. The goblin averted his sight from the psychedelic patterns in the room. The clashing colors were making him dizzy like a while ago… or did he inhale residues of whatever they’ve been smoking? _I feel like my brain's melting._ He closed his eyes and laid back a little more to calm himself; he made up his mind not to open it until Furion comes home. Slowly, he fell asleep.


End file.
